Home in the Rain
by supportingcharacters
Summary: When Marco saw him out in the rain, he offered him some coffee. He looked like he could have used some warming up. He didn't expect that he would become such a big part of Marco's life.
1. Chapter 1

The coffee shop was warm, bright and cosy. Yellow walls, coloured couches, comfy chairs and tables. In one end, a fire roared in the fireplace. On the opposite end, the workers bustled about, preparing teas, coffees and hot chocolates. It was packed full of people, barely a chair was unoccupied. The queue to order a take-away drink was nearly out the door. On rainy days such as this one, "Hanji's House" always did good business.

Marco smiled, handing the hot chocolate to-go to the customer. As he handed her the change, he looked out the window. It was still raining. It was just one of those days, he decided. The sky was dark, even though it wasn't that late. The rain had been pouring all day, sometimes lightly, sometimes thundering. The whole world outside of the coffee shop seemed dull and grey. Marco sighed, his smile slipping a little. He had to walk home today. At least he had an umbrella with him.

He noticed someone outside. A young man, looking through the window. He made no motion to come in to the coffee shop…he was just standing there. He didn't have an umbrella or a proper jacket, just a worn-out hoodie. _He must be freezing_, Marco thought. From his current position, he couldn't see his face at all.

"Yo. Marco," Hanji said, flicking him with a tea towel. "You in a trance, or something?" The light reflected off of her glasses momentarily.

Marco jumped. "S-sorry!" he said, slightly embarrassed that his employer had caught him staring at some guy while he should have been working. "I'll get making those lattes straight away!"

Hanji laughed. "Check the time, Marco. Your shift is over. You should be getting home soon."

Marco checked his watch. Sure enough, it was six o' clock. "Oh! Well, thanks!" he said. "I'll probably be getting going soon, then. Are you sure you don't need me to stick around? It is kind of busy…"

Hanji shook her head. "Christa's coming in soon, we'll manage without you. Now get going – that rain has lightened a little. I'd tell you to take a coffee to keep you warm on the way home, but you don't drink coffee, do you?"

Marco's gaze darted to the window. That guy was still there. "Actually," he said. "I might take a coffee today."

* * *

"Excuse me!" Marco said, umbrella in one hand, coffee cup in the other. The man in the hoodie turns around to look at him for a second, before turning on his heel and walking away.

Marco's brow crinkled slightly. He followed the man. "Excuse me!" he said, louder this time. The man turns again. Marco jogged a little to catch up to him. Now that they're closer, Marco can see his face. Suspicion clouds the man's face. His hazel eyes are narrowed slightly, his mouth in a grimace. Marco could just about make out a shock of blond hair under his hood. He didn't just look suspicious. He looked…defeated. Like someone who had given up on something big. Marco shook his head – those were weird thoughts.

Marco smiles widely, handing him the cup. "Hey there," he said. "I work in the coffee shop just there. I saw you looking in, and gosh it's so cold and wet, I thought you might need a little warming up."

The man's face showed disbelief. "I…I don't have any money," he said. His voice was low, and smooth like velvet. Marco could listen to that voice all day.

"It's okay," Marco said. "Hanji – she's the owner – always lets us take a coffee at the end of our shift, and she never charges us! But I don't really like coffee…I saw you looking in the window but you didn't come in, so I thought that you might enjoy a free coffee more than I would!"

The man still looked slightly suspicious. His hazel eyes flickered from the coffee to Marco. He looked kind of surprised, too. Marco didn't understand why – it was just a cup of coffee.

"Why are you being so nice?" he asked. "You don't know me."

"Do you have to know someone to be nice to them?" Marco asked. "It's just a cup of coffee. It's no big deal."

Slowly, the man raised his hand to take the cup. His fingers brushed off of Marco's. They were freezing. The man took a sip, and shuddered slightly. "Thank you," he said to Marco, genuine gratitude in his eyes.

Marco beamed. "Anytime."

The man turned and walked away before Marco could ask him his name. He held the cup of coffee like it was a precious treasure. _He was odd_, Marco thought. _Though then again, so am I._

* * *

Connie laughed heartily. "Dude! You're such a weirdo. Just giving people on the streets free coffee!" He laughed again.

"Shush!" Sasha said, flicking Connie on the head. "Marco was being nice. At least he has a heart, unlike you!"

"Who needs a heart when you can have Sasha's cooking?"

Marco laughed at his roommate's behaviour. Sasha, their friend, handed him a dish. Marco didn't even know what it was, but if Sasha made it, it was bound to taste good. Most nights Sasha ended up cooking for him and Connie – they couldn't cook at all, whereas Sasha was a master.

"Anyway," Sasha continued, sitting down at the table herself. "I thought it was kind of sweet! Did you get his name? What did he look like?"

Marco shook his head. He regretted it. He wasn't sure why, but the man in the rain intrigued him. "He left before I could introduce myself." Marco tried to remember the details. "He had blond hair and he was a little smaller than me. I'd never seen him before."

Sasha nodded thoughtfully while Connie shook his head. "You guys," he said through a mouthful of food. "Don't you realise that it can be dangerous to go up to some fucking stranger? You don't know who it could be. Marco's coffee guy could be a murderer or a stalker or something. You guys need to be more careful."

Marco shook his head. He put down his fork. He understood what Connie was trying to say, but… "He wasn't like that," he said. Connie raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah, I'm sure you know him so well after exchanging what? Three sentences with him?"

Marco smiled, trying to placate his roommate. "I can't explain it," he said. "I just felt as if he wasn't dangerous. I guess I just had a good vibe from him." He laughed a little, aware of how dumb it sounded.

"Right. Dude, what the fuck are you on?" Connie asked. All three laughed.

Later, after Marco and Connie had said their goodbyes to Sasha, Marco's phone beeped.

_From: Potato Girl_

_To: Freckled Jesus_

_yo marco, don't get upset about what C said. he has our best interests at heart J i wont be over tomorrow, but i left a lasagne in ur fridge so u wont starve :D if u see coffee guy again tell me! night J_

Marco smiled. He knew Connie was just looking out for him. He and Connie had known each other since childhood. They lived on the same street but they didn't become friends until high school (which was when they met Sasha, too). The three had become inseparable. They all went to the same University too, the Uni on the outskirts of the city. While Sasha lived on campus with her friend Mikasa, Connie and Marco rented a tiny apartment in the city. They liked staying closer to the city, and the University was only fifteen minutes on the bus anyway.

Marco was studying journalism at Uni, and worked at Hanji's House in the evenings and weekends to pay for his rent. He was working at the same time again tomorrow. He wondered if he'd see coffee guy again tomorrow.

* * *

_From: Freckled Jesus_

_To: Potato Girl_

_hes here!_

_From: Potato Girl_

_To: Freckled Jesus_

_Who?_

_From: Freckled Jesus_

_To: Potato Girl_

_COFFEE GUY_

_From: Freckled Jesus_

_To: Potato Girl_

_OK my shifts over im gonna give him another coffee_

_From: Freckled Jesus_

_To: Potato Girl_

_here we go_

_From: Potato Girl_

_To: Freckled Jesus_

_gl!_

* * *

Coffee Guy smiled at him. He didn't look suspicious like he did yesterday. Well, that wasn't true. He looked slightly wary still, but not as much as yesterday. He was looking considerably perkier than the previous day too. When he took the coffee he gave Marco a smile, which showed his teeth. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but his hood wasn't up. Marco could see his whole face now.

He could also see that he was…very handsome. Marco gulped.

"I'll pay you back for these, Freckles," he said. "I promise. I can't right now, but I will."

Marco laughed. "It's only coffee. I don't like it anyway; it's really not a big deal!"

Unlike the previous day, Coffee Guy didn't leave immediately. "Thanks," he said, his voice slightly lower. His voice was smooth as water, Marco could listen to it all day.

Coffee Guy ran a hand through his messy blond hair. "I'll be going then," he said.

Marco didn't know what to say. He wanted to talk to Coffee Guy more – he was mysterious and attractive, who wouldn't want to talk to him more? But Marco wasn't brave enough to say anything, so he watched Coffee Guy walk down the street.

An idea struck him. He chewed his lip for a moment, before deciding "_oh, fuck it, let's try this._"

"Hey! Coffee Guy!" he yelled.

Coffee Guy whirled around, an eyebrow raised. His mouth curled upwards slightly.

"My name isn't Freckles!" Marco yelled.

Coffee Guy laughed. It wasn't a proper, hearty laugh. It was a short laugh, but even so it was a great sound.

"What is it then?" he called back.

"Marco! Marco Bodt!"

"Well, Marco Bodt, my name isn't Coffee Guy!"

Marco smiled widely. Coffee Guy returned the smile before turning. "My name is Jean Kirstein!"


	2. Chapter 2

Jean was cold.

Jean was wet.

Jean was tired.

Jean was scared.

Jean was hungry.

There were a lot of things wrong with Jean. He should have been in a prestigious University studying law, on his way to a comfortable life. But no, life decided to fuck up a few things, and now he was sitting alone in the rain in some dirty alleyway, in a city that wasn't even his own.

Sighing deeply, Jean pushed himself up. It was raining again, he noticed. He sighed, pulling his hood up. He sneezed loudly. He must have a cold coming on. _No wonder_, he thought bitterly.

Jean stuffed his hands into his pockets and shuffled out of the alley. People pushed past him, everyone hurrying to find shelter from the rain. Cars honked their horns loudly, the rain thrummed on the rooftops of the buildings and the huge clock on town hall chimed, signalling the end of another hour.

Jean glanced up at the clock, and despite himself, he smiled. Marco's shift at the coffee shop should be finished soon. He began to work his way through the streets to Hanji's House.

It had been nearly two weeks since he and Marco had first met. In that time he had found out that Marco was a year older than him, was studying accounting at Trost University and lived off-campus in an apartment in the city.

The boy was ridiculously trusting. But he was kind, and easy to get on with. Just exchanging a few words with him made Jean's day a little better.

Jean's days were all laid out in the same, monotonous pattern. They were bleak and grey, almost blurred into each other. A few words with someone as kind and warm as Marco kept him going. Jean really appreciated the coffee – it was cold these days, and the coffee warmed him up (not to mention it tasted great) – but he really valued the company more than the coffee.

It's not like he would _tell_ anyone that, though.

Marco laughed. "Yeah, Connie's like that. He's reliable and a good guy, but sometimes I wonder if he's a two year old trapped in a twenty year old man's body. Our friend Sasha's the same. You wouldn't think it, but she has an insatiable appetite. I mean it. We were at this festival last year, and there was one of those eating competitions. She won by miles, and asked Connie to buy her a hamburger ten minutes later."

Jean chuckled, inching slightly closer to Marco. The rain was still thundering down and Marco's umbrella wasn't exactly huge. "Seems like your friends are kinda strange, Freckles," he said, taking a gulp of his coffee.

Marco smiled. "You're never going to stop calling me that, are you?" he asked.

"Never."

Marco laughed again. It was cold and wet outside, but he didn't care. "What about your friends, then?" he asked. He had seen Jean nearly every day for two weeks, but he still knew virtually nothing about him. He also hadn't mentioned him again to Connie, but Sasha knew about these regular meetings.

"My friends?" Jean stayed silent for a moment. "I haven't seen most of them in ages. Most of them live in Karanese City."

"Is that where you're from?"

"Yeah. My friend Eren and I came here a few months ago. Haven't really been in contact with my old friends much. Haven't seen Eren that much either."

"Really? That's odd. What's he like?"

"Eren? An asshole. No really, he's a little shit. We've always argued and we've always fought, but somehow we remained friends."

Marco nodded. "Listen, Jean," he said. "I need to get going. It's Connie's birthday tomorrow, and he's staying at his parents' house tonight, so Sasha and I are throwing some last minute surprise party plans together. I'm supposed to be meeting her soon…"

Slightly disappointed, Jean just nodded. He barely knew Marco, it was only natural that they wouldn't spend too much time together. "Sure," he said, draining the last of his coffee.

"Also, I'm working the early shift tomorrow. I'll be finished at noon instead of the usual time. Will I still see you?" Marco sounded pretty hopeful. Jean smiled.

"Yeah. Later, Freckles."

Marco beamed. "Take care, Jean! See you tomorrow!"

* * *

Jean raised an eyebrow. "What do you want, Jaeger?"

Eren Jaeger stood straight, his arms crossed and his features dragged down into a vaguely pissed-off expression. As usual. "You know what I came to say, Jean."

Jean sighed. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I've seen you outside that coffee shop three nights in a row. It was easy to follow you. For someone who doesn't want to be found, you make it too easy." Jean said nothing. Eren looked around the alleyway. "So, this is where you're sleeping?"

Jean rolled his eyes. "Not everyone has a best friend or a sister that they can stay with."

Eren sighed. "You should go home, Jean. I'm sure your parents are worried about you."

"Yeah? Why don't you go home?"

"My mother's dead, Kirstein."

"And I don't want mine to follow suit! Besides, what about your dad?"

Eren glared at Jean. "It's safer here," he said. "We can't go home, not yet."

Jean ran a hand through his damp hair, but said nothing. He knew what was going to happen. This happened at least once a week. Both he and Eren were tired of it, but they were both too stubborn to give in.

"We need to go to the police."

"Fuck this, Eren. The police can't do anything. If we do go to them we'll make it worse."

"No we won't! Not if we go to them together. If I went myself, maybe that'd cause problems for you. But if you come with me, we'll be safe."

Jean blew out air through is mouth. "Let's stop beating around the bush," he said. "Are we going to fight, or not?"

Eren lunged for him and punched him in the face. His fist connected with Jean's nose.

**_This was how it always happened. Eren would find Jean, try to convince him to go to the police._**

Jean tackled Eren, grabbing him around the waist. Eren was better at throwing punches, but Jean was taller and used to be heavier. He used his weight to knock Eren off of his feet. They both tumbled to the ground.

Jean wasn't as strong as he used to be. He hadn't had a proper, hearty meal in weeks.

**_Jean would refuse. They were both stubborn bastards. And it would always – always – end up in a fist fight._**

Jean straddled Eren's waist and clenched his hands into fists. He slammed his right into Eren's jaw and followed up with a left hook to his chest. Eren grunted underneath him.

**_It was just the way things were._**

Eren squirmed and brought his leg up, kneeing Jean in the crotch.

**_As kids, they would always fight over their disagreements. They still fought, even now. _**

Jean hissed, and Eren used this chance to reverse their positions. He quickly stood up, and sent a kick in to Jean's side.

**_Now that they were both in danger, it felt good to fight._**

Jean curled up and gasped. He was definitely doing worse in this fight.

**_Not only did it relieve stress, it gave their situation a strange sense of normality._**

He grabbed Eren's leg and pulled him down. Immediately, his fist shot up and bloodied Eren's lip. Jea received a knee to the rips for his trouble.

**_It made Jean feel as if he wasn't alone._**

Jean launched a punch to Eren's stomach, and Eren lashed out with his legs at Jean's shin. Jaeger's fingers grabbed at Jean's light hair, and pulled harshly.

**_Although it wasn't exactly a good habit to have. They would always finish off hurt and angry._**

They continued rolling around, kicking, punching and even biting. Luckily, they were in an alleyway, so no bystanders tried to break them up.

Eventually they lay panting and bleeding, leaning against opposite walls. Jean felt bruised all over, and he was certain his nose and lip were bleeding. His cheek stung, he had scraped it on the ground one of the times Eren had tackled him. He wiped away a trickle of blood from the cut.

They said nothing. Jean knew Eren would leave soon. And hey presto! No sooner had the thought formed and Eren was stumbling to his feet. He shuffled off without a word.

Jean laughed bitterly. "See you next week, Jaeger!" he called after him.

He struggled to his own feet, and stumbled out of the alley onto the street. The rain was a lot lighter now.

His face and body hurt. He was mad at Eren – why couldn't he fucking try and understand for once, instead of being a stubborn asshole? Jean was much worse off than Eren. Eren would go home to a small but warm apartment, where his best friend Armin would patch him up. His adopted sister Mikasa would be there the second she had heard Eren was hurt, and the three would spend the night together, safe and warm.

Jean had none of that. He didn't have anyone to help clean the blood off of his face. He had eaten his meal of the day. He would sleep on the cold ground in a dirty alleyway.

At least the rain would wash most of the blood off of his face.

Jean didn't realise he was crying until the first tear dropped off of his chin. At first he thought it was the rain, but who was he kidding?

Despite being in the middle of a fairly busy street, he slumped against a wall. The people walking by gave him disgusted looks.

He rubbed his eyes furiously. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! He was meant to be a lawyer in a rich family, he was meant to live an easy and comfortable life! But instead he was a bloody mess crying in the street while people looking on, disgusted. Jean closed his eyes.

Life wasn't fair.

"Jean! Jean! Hey, JEAN!"

Jean opened his eyes to see Marco Bott, holding a bunch of balloons, kneeling down in front of him.

"Marco?"

Perfect. Not only did he manage to look pathetic in public, he managed to look pathetic in front of one of his only, kind-of, sort-of friends.

"Jean, what the hell happened?" Marco asked. Jean couldn't help be touched by the concern in his voice.

"Got into a fight," he grunted. Marco reached up. His fingertips lightly brushed the cut on his cheek. Jean winced.

"Sorry," Marco said, looking worried as he bit his lip. "Listen, we need to get you cleaned up, you look really beaten up. Where's your home? I'll help you back."

Jean felt his stomach sink. He felt terrible. How could he tell Marco that he didn't have a home? Would Marco write him off as a good for nothing criminal, and judge him? Would his worried expression turn into a disgusted expression? Would he judge him like everyone else?

Jean felt his eyes water up again. "Marco…I – I don't…"

Marco saw the tears threatening to flow on the younger man's face. He realised something bad must be happening. In the last two weeks, Jean usually looked as if he didn't care. The only times he didn't was when he was laughing or smiling at something Marco said. To see him about to cry…

Marco stood up, and offered a hand to Jean. Jean looked at it without saying anything. "Come on, Jean," he said, a determined ring in his voice. Jean stared for a moment before accepting the help. Once he was standing, Marco put a hand on his shoulder. "Connie's away tonight, our apartment is empty. You're staying the night."

Jean let Marco guide him through the streets. "What?"

Marco smiled softly and pushing his hair out of his face. "Someone needs to patch you up," he said. "Why not me?"


End file.
